


The Gamer Next Door

by jeneralreading



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Confessions, Depression, Drawing, F/M, Family Dinners, Family Issues, Kissing, Overprotective, Sex, Sick Character, Slow Burn, Takes place after Chapter 27, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeneralreading/pseuds/jeneralreading
Summary: In this AU fanfic, Marshall never met Monica at the ViewTuber party he attended. He moves into the apartment next to Sam's after his vicious ViewTube video critiquing Ruminate. Sam immediately despises him, but as time progresses, Marshall realizes the mistake he made and tries desperately to make it up to Sam.This fanfic follows the story of Sam and Marshall's relationship starting from the point in the comic where she’s successfully fixed his Kingship save file. Its a tale of budding friendship growing into a romance that pushes the two to grow together.Everything before this story is canon (minus interactions with Monica), but this story itself splinters off from canon.
Relationships: Marshall Law/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	1. Ruminating His Choices

Sam shook Marshall’s hand in front of her doorway then slid into her apartment. Marshall turned and headed to his own apartment, hearing the clink of a tumbler as Sam locked her door. He sighed, relieved that his Kingship file was resuscitated, but he still felt a familiar sense of dread lurking deep within him. Ruminate, Sam’s only game she had ever developed, and it was his fault that it was currently a complete flop according to the internet.

He opened his apartment door and strolled to his office. Kingship remained open on his screen, and he figured he’d wrap up the video he’d been planning on before something else catastrophic happened to his save file.

A few hours later, he stretched and saved the raw footage to his hard drive, adding the editing and uploading of the video to his quest list for tomorrow. He glanced at the time in the bottom right of his screen and noticed it was around midnight.

Noice, pretty early still, he thought as he skimmed through social media, updates from different ViewTubers zipping upwards as he scrolled. His discussion with Sam about her inspiration for game development floated to the top of his mind, and he remembered his promise to give Ruminate a fair shot. He pulled up the Ruminate page on Indigineer and clicked the orange square download button. The downloading file blinked to life in the rail at the bottom of his browser and began its march to completion as he spun around in his desk chair.

Once the download completed, he pulled up the game and stared at the home screen for a few minutes.

“Should I record this?” he thought aloud. He scratched his head, weighing the pros and cons, agonizing over the possibility of further sullying the game’s already trashed reputation. Finally, he decided to go ahead and record it, with the resolve to delete it if he truly felt that the game wasn’t good. He stared at the camera, struggling to switch on his ViewTube persona as anxiety gnawed at the edge of his mind.

Don’t fuck this up more than you have already Ben, he thought as he finally switched into his online personality and dove into his first couple hours of Ruminate.

…………………………………………

He stopped the recording of his gameplay as the clock slipped past three in the morning.

Holy bajeezus, this game is great, he thought as he stashed the raw footage in a new folder. A pang of guilt ran through him as he realized Sam was absolutely right about his first attempt at the game. He’d decided to ignore the instructions and barrel through the game like he was the Doom guy in a world of demons, but Ruminate just wasn’t built that way. It was a deep, intricate puzzle game that pulled you deeper into the world with each quest completed.

He sighed, shut down his desktop for the night and kicked his chair away from his desk. Playing the game had kept his anxiety about the whole situation at bay, but as the excitement of the experience wound down he felt that familiar, black miasma settle around him. He crawled into his bed and wriggled beneath the covers, seeking solace from the heavy fog that threatened to crush him into the ground.

She’s one of my oldest fans, made what looks to be a great game, and I totally trashed it in front of the entire world because I decided to be a lazy piece of shit that day, he thought, unable to keep his negative thoughts at bay anymore as they washed over him. He hugged his pillow tight, failing to keep the stinging tears confined as the dark thoughts constricted his chest.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes to light streaming through his windows. He wasn’t sure when exactly he’d slipped off into a dreamless sleep, but the clock beside his bed informed him that it was two in the afternoon. He sat up, but immediately fell back, feeling a bit unsteady as his head swam. A familiar tingling sensation tickled the back of his throat as he let out a sneeze.

“Well shit, just what I needed,” he said as he pushed himself up off the bed. He rubbed his temples as he thought of his lengthy to-do list, featuring the editing and uploading of his latest Kingship video, as well as a handful of chores around the house. A mountain of clothing sat huddled in the corner, taunting him along with the stack of dishes peeking out from the sink. He groaned, his head pounding as he stood and made his way to the shower, cursing the fact that he’d slept much later than normal.

After making himself somewhat presentable, Marshall tugged on a sweatshirt and headed for the front door. He desperately needed something caffeinated if he hoped to achieve even half of his to-do list, and The Daily Grind was the best place he’d found to grab a coffee in the short amount of time he lived in his new apartment. He breathed deeply and locked his front door behind him, then headed for the stairs. Before he could pass by Sam’s door, the world started to churn in concert with a splitting headache. He lurched as his vision went blurry, crashing into an unaware Sam holding a coffee and bag of baked goods. The coffee splashed down the front of her sweater as she lunged to support Marshall.

“Marshall, are you okay?” she exclaimed, ignoring her ruined sweater.

“I was feeling a little bit off before but I’m feeling a whole lot worse now,” Marshall muttered as he failed to fully stand on his own.

“Alright come in and I’ll get you set up on the couch, hold on,” she said, fumbling with her keys as she led Marshall through her doorway. Bowser bounded up to them as they stepped over the threshold and let out the small, grouchy bark.

“Bowser, its okay, “ Sam reassured him as she helped Marshall down to the couch. She stretched her hand out and placed it on his pale forehead and clicked her tongue.

“Definitely got a fever, it feels high but I’ll dig out my thermometer to check,” she sighed. “I’ll get you some water before I go grab you some medicine. Does it feel like a cold?”

Marshall nodded his head, staring up at her with his best imitation of a sad puppy. Sam handed him a glass of water, massaging the bridge of her nose and sighing as she turned to rummage through her medicine cabinet.

“I’ve got your standard cold medicine if that works, it has a fever reducer which should help,” she said as she pulled out a box of medicine and a digital ear thermometer from a basket in one of her kitchen cabinets. Blushing, she brushed aside one of his long locks of jet black hair, placing the thermometer gently in his ear. Marshall met her chocolate brown eyes for a second before she shyly looked away, and he blushed slightly as he thought of pulling her face closer to his own.

Woah woah woah, calm down dude, he thought. Even if she’s cute, you know she’s not into you. The soft beeping of the thermometer brought him back to reality, and he noticed a small streak of blood crept down from one of Sam’s nostrils.

“Woah Sam, are you okay?!” Marshall said.

“Y-y-yeah I’m f-f-fine,” she stammered, her face beat red, rushing over to her tissue box while glancing at the thermometer. Marshall could just barely read the digital display, and the numbers 104 blinked back at him in an angry red.

“No wonder you almost fell over, you seriously need to get this fever down,” said Sam as she stuffed a tissue in her nostril. She set down the thermometer on the counter and gestured towards the medicine box sitting on the couch next to Marshall. “Take a dose of that, I need to go change.” She tugged at her sweater to get a good look at the damage, sighing as she headed into her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Marshall popped a set of pills from a box displaying a person dramatically blowing their nose and gulped them down with some water, noting that his tingling throat now had a twinge of pain when swallowing. He laid back on the couch and closed his eyes, feeling the full force of a high fever wash over him and carry him in delirious waves of heat.

A few minutes later, he felt a cool, damp sensation spread across his forehead, and he opened his eyes to Sam leaning over him. She placed a wet washcloth on his forehead, a mixture of concern and embarrassment spread across her face, a tissue still poking out from her nostril. He smiled, then closed his eyes as the cool relief crept across his forehead and trickled through the rest of his body.

“You can rest here, I was just planning on working on my computer today anyways,” said Sam as she placed a light knitted blanket over him. “I know you’re on your own in your apartment, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you on your own with a fever this high. Just let me know if anything feels worse.”

Marshall nodded weakly, feeling sleep’s tendrils dragging him down to the realm of dreams. The soft clacking of a keyboard served as a lullaby as he drifted feverishly asleep.


	2. Chicken Noodle Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Marshall nearly collapsed from fever, Sam brought him into her apartment and made sure he was well taken care of. He awakens from his fever dream to Sam's homemade chicken soup, and sickly bonding time ensues.

A savory, mouth-watering smell wafted lazily into Marshall’s nostrils, rousing him from his feverish dreams. He slowly opened his eyes, then stared around in confusion for a few moments before remembering he’d fallen asleep in Sam’s apartment, not his. His feet brushed against a warm, fuzzy ball of fur as he swung his legs to the edge of the couch and slowly sat up, the damp towel on his head sliding off his forehead and plopping soundless on the couch. Bowser, looking slightly annoyed, gave a small gruff before laying his head on his paws, eyeing Marshall suspiciously. Marshall’s face lit up happily, but he shakingly contained his excitement that Bowser decided to sleep even remotely close to him.

Eeeeeeeee! Marshall squealed in his thoughts. He slept next to me. He actually slept next to me! He’s such a cute pupper! He reached his hand towards Bowser, but hesitated, remembering Sam’s words previously about Bowser being a bit wary of him after his first impression. He compromised on a smile sent Bowser’s way. Bowser huffed and turned his head away from him, causing Marshall to pout.

“Just give him time Marshall, its a good step that he decided to come lay next to you,” said Sam as she walked slowly over from the kitchen. She gingerly held a steaming bowl of soup with both hands, which she placed tenderly on the coffee table before Marshall. His mouth watered as he stared down at the liquid gold broth swimming with fresh vegetables and bits of shredded chicken.

“My mom always made this for me when I was sick growing up,” she said as she stirred the soup with a spoon. “Its her homemade chicken soup recipe. It never failed to make me feel better, no matter how sick I felt.” She subconsciously crept her fingers towards the neckline of her sweater, then quickly stuffed her hand in her pocket, blushing as she realized she’d been absentmindedly reaching for her tracheotomy scar. Marshall failed to notice as he hungerly hunched over the bowl, spoon in hand in preparation to launch a fierce attack on the soup.

“This...is...delicious,” he mumbled as he stuffed mouthful after mouthful of soup in his mouth. Once the vegetables and chicken were devoured, he resorted to drinking the salty broth straight from the bowl. He stared at Sam with pleading eyes as he showed her his empty bowl. He could already feel the warm, umami goodness chipping away at the achy sick feeling that settled deep in his muscles.

“Can I...can I have another bowl?” he asked, nervous about imposing more than he already had, but unable to resist another delicious serving.

“O-of course!” Sam responded, blushing as she smiled and took the bowl from him to refill it. Marshall watched as she walked to the kitchen, noticing the slight curves of her body beneath her baggy clothes as she moved.

Dude seriously, you need to chill with these lewd thoughts, he thought to himself, looking away and taking in the room around him. He was instantly drawn to the laptop, which was unlocked, sitting slanted on the desk beside the monitor, mouse and keyboard that were attached to it. A piece of programming software engulfed the screen, a collection of menus, terminals, and lines of code all sectioned off into their own boxes. A crudely drawn character holding a sword sat forlornly on the laptop’s screen in a narrow window, the word “Evermake” splashed across the top of the window in black and white block letters.

“Woah are you making a new game?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah, its a mobile game,” Sam explained as she scooped the last ladle-full of soup to fill Marshall’s bowl. “Its a crafting simulation where you’re a crafter that hires adventurers to get materials for you. So far I’ve only written a couple of adventurers and the main character, but I’m just starting to work on the crafting mini-game now.” She walked over and handed Marshall the refilled bowl of soup, then reached out to feel his forehead. Her cool hands trembled slightly against his skin as she compared his temperature to her own, her knees folded beneath her as she sat on the ground.

“I think you probably still have a fever, but its definitely not as high as it was,” she said, pulling her hand away. “I would at least take it easy for a day or two. Otherwise you’ll end up in a worse situation than you were earlier.” She brushed a strand of hair from her face, which stubbornly broke free from the confines of her ear and settled back to its original place. She fidgeted restlessly and nibbled on her thumb as she seemed to struggle to say what she was thinking.

“If...I-i-if you n-n-need to, you can s-s-stay here ‘till you feel b-b-better,” she managed to stammer, her face redder than a ripe tomato. Marshall sighed, feeling awful that he’d put her into an uncomfortable position.

“You don’t need to do that for me Sam,” he said. “You’ve already done a ton for me and I really appreciate it, but I can’t impose more than I have.”

“But Marshall!” she shot back, suddenly fierce. “You don’t have anyone back at your apartment to keep an eye on you! What if you get worse again?” Her eyes smoldered passionately beneath her flushed face, and Marshall realized she wouldn’t back down easily.

“How about this, I can give you my spare key and you can pop in to make sure I haven’t died or something,” Marshall said, chuckling slightly.

“Don’t say something like that!” said Sam, taken aback. “Dying isn’t funny, its not a joke.” A twinge of pain edged her gaze. Marshall realized he’d gone too far and reached towards her.

“Sam, I’m sorry that was too far,” he said. “I know you’ve been through a lot, hell you told me so yesterday, and I should have been more compassionate.” He stretched his fingers towards her face and gently brushed her rebellious strand of hair aside. Sam’s eyes widened in shock at the sudden closeness, her face somehow miraculously growing an ever deeper shade of red.

“I really, really can’t think of how I can thank you for how much you’ve done for me today, especially after how much I fucked up with the Ruminate review,” said Marshall sadly. Sam winced at the mention of Ruminate, the pain still fresh, but she couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from Marshall’s.

“I’ll give you my spare and you’re welcome to come check on me for the next few days,” said Marshall. “And, I mean, if you have extra of that soup, I definitely wouldn’t say no.” He gave her his best, cutest pleading smile. She sighed, smiling at the ground before raising to meet his gaze again.

“Okay, I’ll bring you some,” she said. “But if I find you pushing yourself too far I swear you’re going to regret it, and I mean it. You better focus on getting better.” A fierce, dangerous fire burned in her gaze, telling Marshall that she meant that threat.

“Okay okay, no videos for a couple days,” Marshall agreed, defeated. I really hope my fans don’t hate me for this, he thought, anxiety creeping its way back into his consciousness.

“Your fans will be okay,” said Sam, as if she could read his mind. “Trust me on this. They’d rather you get better.” He smiled, knowing she was one of his first fans.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said warmly, feeling the anxiety disperse.

“Well, I better get back to my apartment,” he said as he pushed himself off the couch, glad to be well enough to stand without feeling that shifting feeling. “Thanks again for everything, I guess I’ll see you later then.” He headed to the front door, slipping on his shoes as he turned the handle.

“Yeah, see you later,” Sam said with a smile, awkwardly waving as he shut the door behind him.


	3. Catching Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam comes to visit Marshall at his apartment to make sure he's working on getting better. Marshall isn't sticking to his promise, but he has a good reason, he's playing Ruminate! Sam and Marshall grow closer as they talk about Ruminate, both the good and the bad.

A soft knock at the front door followed by the click of the tumblers releasing the lock reminded Marshall of his promise to Sam. He jumped away from his keyboard and swiftly saved his current playthrough of Ruminate. He slammed the two keys that locked his computer screen and darted for the entrance, huffing at the exertion on his weakened body.

“Hey Marshall, its me,” said Sam timidly as she slowly opened the door, a tupperware container of soup tucked under her left arm.

“Oh hey Sam, thanks for stopping by!” said Marshall, eyeing the soup hungerly. A plate littered with breadcrumbs and the remnants of a fried egg rested on the counter, but he definitely had room for more of that magical liquid deliciousness. Sam smiled, then glanced towards his office. The cord from his microphone swung softly beside his computer chair, which was angled directly at the ajar door. She eyed him suspiciously as she placed the soup on the counter.

“Were you working today?” she asked, her tone laced with annoyance.

“Uh, uh, uh no definitely not, what makes you say that?” asked Marshall, chuckling nervously. Sam sighed, popping the lid off her container.

“I get that you feel obligated to make content for your fans, but I didn’t nurse you back to health just so you go ahead and get sick again,” she huffed. Marshall’s heart sank slightly, feeling guilty for already breaking his promise.

“I know, I’m sorry Sam,” he said with remorse. “I just couldn’t stop myself from playing more of your game.” Sam’s head whipped around as she heard mention of her game.

“Wait, you played my game?” she asked excitedly. “What do you think so far? Do you like it? Is there something that I could do better?” The questions overflowed in rapid succession.

“Sam I love it,” said Marshall, beaming. “Its such a unique and interesting game experience. I feel like a total dick for playing it the way I did the first time, it didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve that.” The hint of a tear glimmered in the corner of his eyes. Sam’s frustration melted away, leaving a bit of sadness. She paused, staring down at the container of soup forlornly, her own eyes brimming with tears.

“I-I struggle with how to feel about it,” said Sam, stammering with effort to surface her true feelings. “I get why it happened, you’re busy and have to make videos every day to keep your fans. I get it, and yet I still felt so hurt. I don’t know if I’m still angry with you or not, because I still find what you think to be so important, and I still like you as a person.”

Marshall sighed, taking a step forward as a single tear rolled down his cheek. “Sam I’ll apologize as many times as I need to,” he said, “I also really want to help fix this, whatever that ends up being.” Sam sniffled and smiled up at him, wiping away her tears.

“Thank you Marshall,” she said, blushing. “That really means a lot.” Marshall reached out and tenderly grabbed her hand, gently squeezing as he smiled. Sam’s blush deepend to a dangerous red, meeting his gaze. Her eyes popped suddenly and she quickly turned away, her hands flying up to her nose.

“Sam are you okay?” asked Marshall in a panicked tone.

“Its just my nose again, don’t worry,” Sam mumbled, fumbling with a roll of paper towel nearby in the kitchen.

“You know that kind of reminds me of when someone in anime has lewd thoughts...” Marshall trailed off as he noticed Sam flinch. He covered his mouth in shock, unable to believe that something like this could actually happen in real life.

“I-I-I-I’ll be okay in a s-s-sec,” she sputtered, quaking as she turned to face him with a mortified expression.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Marshall asked, snatching a tissue box on the nightstand behind him and swiping a single tissue from the box. He gently placed it in her hand, offering to take the paper towel. Their hands touched for a minute as she handed off the paper towel, and she immediately averted her gaze.

“Nope I’m okay,” squeaked Sam. Marshall walked over to the trash can at the edge of his kitchen island and tossed the paper towel in, then turned to meet Sam’s eyes.

“I can tell I make you uncomfortable, and I’m really sorry,” said Marshall.

“No Marshall its not that,” said Sam quickly, her tone almost panicked. “I just, I-I-I just, haven’t really had experience with this kind of...closeness. Its like I can’t physically handle it.” She looked shocked, almost confused, as if she didn’t understand why she was telling him this.

“I get it, social anxiety is tough,” he said, smiling softly. “Don’t worry about it, I understand.” Sam stared into his eyes, smiling deeply, but then suddenly glanced at the soup that lay abandoned on the counter.

“Jeez, I forgot about the whole reason why I came over here,” she said softly, tossing her tissue in the trash as she darted over to the sink to wash her hands. “Where are your bowls?” Marshall smiled and went to join her in the kitchen, helping her heat up the soup and joining her for an early lunch as the two chatted happily about the intricacies of Ruminate.

\-----------------------------------------------

Marshall jolted awake from his afternoon nap, hearing the muffled sounds of what was unmistakably porn through the walls next to him.

“Wait, that’s Sam’s apartment,” he said, chuckling as he pushed himself off his bed. “That girl keeps surprising me somehow.” He grinned as he stretched and threw on a shirt and jacket, determined to get through another couple of hours of Ruminate.

He settled in, booted up the game, and was shocked when he looked at his clock and suddenly two hours had passed.

“No way that was two hours already,” said Marshall as he saved the raw footage of the video and locked his computer. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that it was almost dinner time. He strolled out of his office, his mood high but also feeling like his fever was also creeping back, when he froze. The same muffled lewd sounds were still going.

Jeez, she’s marathoning it, I’m impressed, he thought wickedly as he snatched a packet of ramen from his cabinet. He started a pot of water on the stove and pulled out his phone to scroll through social media. Suddenly, the noise next door stopped and didn’t resume after a few minutes. He smiled as he strolled over to his bed and flopped himself down. He lounged, waiting for the water on the stove to boil as he scrolled through an infinite amount of kitten pictures

The rumbling sound of boiling water slowly swelled from the kitchen, getting louder as the boiling became more intense. “Yeah, ramen time!” he shouted happily as he walked over to start cooking his noodles with the overly-salty seasoning.

Once it was ready, he quickly slurped down the noodles hungerly, happily humming as he devoured the ramen and drank every drop of the broth.

“Definitely not enough,” he sighed, tapping the edge of the bowl as he contemplated making a second packet of ramen. He jumped as the familiar soft knock appeared at his door, accompanied by the click of the lock.

“How are you feeling?” asked Sam as she stepped through the front door, a plastic bag in her free hand. The spicy, salty smell of Chinese immediately filled the apartment, grabbing Marshall’s attention.

“I might have a fever again, but I’m not feeling as weak after my nap,” he said happily, practically bouncing up to Sam. “Did you bring me food? Ohmigosh what is it? It smells so good!”

“Down boy,” Sam chuckled. “I got some delivery of one of my favorites around here and figured you probably hadn’t eaten yet either.” Marshall slide to hide his empty ramen bowl and nodded emphatically. She handed him a small cardboard food container, filled with spicy chicken, vegetables, and rice.

“This is amazing,” Marshall said between mouthfuls of food. A wonderful, spicy fullness filled his stomach as he polished off the rest of his container. 

“So how come you’ve been here all day, you normally work right?” asked Marshall as he happily patted his full stomach.

“I took a day off,” said Sam, blushing. “I knew you didn’t have anyone to keep an eye on you, and I was so worried after how high your fever was yesterday that I didn’t feel comfortable just abandoning you. Speaking of which...” Her voice trailed off as she placed one hand on her forehead and placed the other gently on Marshall’s forehead, brushing away spare strands of hair to feel the heat of his skin. Marshall found himself blushing slightly at the sudden closeness.

“Yeah you probably still have a low grade one,” said Sam, blushing slightly, but not as deeply as she had before. Marshall noticed she seemed slightly less awkward with the physical contact than before. Without thinking, he reached for her, then let his hand slip away, realizing he probably shouldn’t be trying to give her whatever illness he had with his close proximity.

“Yeah to be honest, I still can’t stop playing Ruminate,” he admitted.

“Marshall!” she shouted, softly tapping him on the shoulder. “You need to be resting!”

“I know, I know,” he said. “But I’m so close to the end of the game, I just want to finish it and then I’ll take a longer break. I can’t leave it where it is now. I promise I’ll take at least a day off once I do, and I won’t work on any other videos or games while I’m playing it.”

“Alright,” Sam agreed. “But you’ll really be in trouble if you don’t follow through with your promise this time.”

“What kind of trouble?” asked Marshall in a snarky tone, wiggling his eyebrows. Sam tried to shoot him an angry look, but ended up breaking into a laugh. Marshall joined her, chuckling softly.

“So tell me about where you’re at in Ruminate now and what you think,” said Sam, plopping down on one of his kitchen island bar stools. Marshall smiled and began an animated retelling of his most recent quests, including the catkin and the lonely bridge troll. The two chattered on well into the night, discussing the quests and other puzzles in the game, losing track of the world around them. A ping on Sam’s phone brought them back to reality, and she cursed as she collected her things and threw away the trash from dinner.

“I didn’t realize what time it was, sorry Marshall I have to go or I won’t get enough sleep,” she said, slipping on her shoes. “I’m working from home tomorrow, so if you need anything just come knock on my door. I won’t be able to pop in as much but I’ll still be around.”

“Sure, will do,” said Marshall, waving as she stepped through the door and locked it behind her. A sense of longing and loneliness swelled in Marshall’s chest, as he realized he wished she didn’t have to go. He flopped onto his bed and squeezed his eyes shut, realization slowly sinking in as to why he had these feelings.

“I think I like her.”


	4. The Dedication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marshall finishes Sam's and rushes to tell her how he feels about the dedication at the end of the game, but other feelings manage to surface as they spend the evening together.

Marshall awoke from a marathon of a night’s sleep, feeling better than he had in days. The shivering, achy feeling of a mild fever had vanished, leaving behind only the slightest sniffle and a tickle in the back of his throat.

“Today, I shall conquer Ruminate!” he announced to a room of furniture and a sink which held a small collection of dirty dishes, his right hand emphatically thrust into the air in a fist. He whistled as he strolled over to his bathroom, a spring in his step. He tugged a fresh set of clothes from his closet and neatly arranged them on his countertop, then he peeled off his old set. He glanced in the mirror, surveying his slim, muscular frame.

“Think I might have lost a bit of muscle the last couple of days, damnit,” he whistled, squishing the tiniest bit of fat on his arms. He seemed to forget his accentuated abs and toned legs as he huffed at the one minor imperfection, those familiar tendrils of anxiety creeping back in that had been banished in Sam’s presence.

“Okay, I’ll get it back, lets just get this shower over with so I can get a good block of gaming in,” he said, deftly twisting the shower knobs to let loose a shimmering cascade of cold water. It quickly heated, creating puffs of warm steam that caressed his naked frame as he sighed happily, washing away the sweaty remnants of his sickness.

He ruffled his long, black hair in a fluffy white towel, drying it as much as he could before he rubbed the moisture from his puff of chest hair and the rest of his body. He tugged on his new set of clothing, some jeans, a plain t-shirt and a comfy zip-up sweatshirt, then happily zoomed over to his office. His excitement was nearly overflowing as he switched on his computer. The time and his username appeared on the screen, and he noted it was around 10 AM. Suddenly, he remembered he hadn’t made breakfast and cursed under his breath.

He darted to the kitchen and hurriedly slammed two large pieces of bread into his toaster. He snatched his container of spreadable butter from the fridge, then deftly grabbed a plate and a knife from his cabinets.

“Come on toast, toast!” he said, as if his words could will the toast into existence faster. He hopped from one foot to the other, impatiently waiting for his meager breakfast so he could resume his Ruminate gameplay. As soon as the toaster popped, he snatched the searing hot pieces of toast from within. He messily spread the butter in uneven sections on the toast, tossed the butter container back into the fridge, and then dashed back to his office, place of toast in hand.

He crunched through bites of his toast as he booted up Ruminate, the familiar main menu greeting him. He gulped down the last of the toast and brushed the crumbs from his hands on his jeans.

“Alright lets do this!” he shouted as he clicked on his video capture software and continued the game.

\-------------------

“This dragon reminds me of a fluffy little corgi, he’s so cute!” squealed Marshall as he wrapped up the dragon quest in Ruminate. He deftly checked his phone from the corner of his eye, seeing that it was almost 5 PM

“Now just one last thing to do, help the poor ghost lady in the woods,” he said as he backtracked to where he saw the ghost woman so long ago. He scratched his head, thinking for a few moments as he looked at his inventory, remembering that a puzzle game typically makes use of every item you pick up in the game. It occurred to him that he never really used the only weapon he picked up in the game to slay anything, and as he clicked on it, it morphed into a wooden cross complete with a beautiful wreath of flowers. Smiling sadly, he buried the bones of the ghost woman and placed the cross into the ground as a tombstone. She smiled at him, then abruptly floated towards him, locking his lips with hers in a passionate kiss as she slowly dissipated. The title of the game followed by a roll of credits appeared.

“I did it!” he shouted. “Man that was such a great game, so worth the play through.” He seemed to be speaking to his video camera in an overly-charismatic fashion. He watched as the small amount of names scrolled through, and finally got to the last piece of the credits: a special dedication. His name appeared in bold letters, bringing a swell of tears to his eyes.

“This game is dedicated to Marshall Law, for inspiring me, and helping me during difficult times,” it read, his name in larger font than the rest of the dedication. A whirlwind of emotions crashed against Marshall, happiness and pride combatting anxiety and depression as he battled within himself to fully register his own feelings.

“I gotta go talk to Sam,” he said in a panic after he stopped his recording and hastily clicked save. He ran from his office and stepped messily into his shoes, yanking his front door open. He dashed to Sam’s apartment and rapped on the door, surprisingly nervous. He jammed his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground, fidgeting.

After a few moments, the door creaked open, revealing a casually dressed Sam in an oversized sweater and pair of jeans.

“Hey Marshall,” Sam started, then stopped, seeming to notice the tears flowing from his eyes. “Marshall what’s wrong? What happened?”

“You...you,” he tried to say what he was thinking, but the words just wouldn’t come out. He bent over and pulled her into a tight hug, surprised to feel her small frame beneath the overabundance of fabric. Sam blushed furiously, but held strong, not a sign of a nosebleed in sight. Marshall felt her slowly wrap her arms around his torso, weakly reciprocating his hug.

“T-t-t-ake your time, its alright,” she said shakily, trembling slightly. Marshall squeezed her tight for a few more seconds, then pulled away.

“I beat Ruminate and read your dedication,” said Marshall. “Sam, I’m so touched, and yet I feel so much more terrible about how I reviewed it the first time. I know I’ve already said it like five times, but I’m so, so sorry. I can’t imagine making it up to you. I loved every ounce of that game and it deserves all the praise in the world.” Tears leaked from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. Sam’s own eyes sprouted tears as she boldly pulled him into a hug herself.

“Marshall, what’s in the past is something you can’t change,” said Sam. “But I forgive you. I took a lot of time to think about it, and I can’t stay mad at you anymore. You’ve shown how much you want to make it up to me so many times, and you just made a mistake in the beginning.” She pushed away from him and smiled sweetly. Marshall felt his anxiety melt away into nothing, replaced by a foreign, yet somehow familiar, fluttering sensation in his chest. Sam almost seemed to glow in a warm light before him as he locked eyes with her.

"Are you hungry? I was about to make some dinner after I wrapped up the last of my work," she said, still trembling slightly. She walked over to the kitchen as she wiped away the tears on her sleeve.

"Huh, oh, yeah I am," said Marshall, breaking out of his daze and following along at her heels. "What's for dinner?"

"Well I have the ingredients for stir fry if that sounds good," she said, shuffling around the contents of her fridge.

"That sounds amazing!" Marshall responded, his eyes alight with excitement. He usually ended up cooking whatever was quickest and took the least amount of effort, so a quality home cooked meal was a rare and exciting treat.

"Alright you go hang out on the couch for a while, it'll be ready in a bit," said Sam, already busying herself with the preparation of ingredients. Marshall turned and glanced around the apartment, looking for who he hoped would soon be his fluffy, black and white dog friend. Bowser lay sprawled out on the couch, his princess toy beside him. He eyed Marshall lazily, but said nothing as he rolled over and continued to snooze.

“Mind if I sit next to you little buddy?” Marshall asked, inching towards the other edge of the couch. Bowser appeared to ignore him, which Marshall happily took as a sign of acceptance and plopped himself down. Over the edge of his phone, filled with more cat pictures, he stole glances at Sam, who was focused intently on making sure everything in the pan was cooked. He wondered what she would look like with well-fitting clothing as he thought back to their hug, remembering the feeling of her slender, curvy frame.

“Its almost done,” Sam said as she tossed some dry noodles into the pan.

“Can I help at all?” asked Marshall, eager to feel somewhat useful.

“Yeah sure, there’s plates in the cabinet to my left if you could grab two of them,” she said absentmindedly as she stirred the noodles into the sauce.

“Sure!” said Marshall excitedly, jumping off the couch and strolling over to the kitchen. The space between the counter behind Sam and the stove in front of her was narrow, but there was just enough room for him to slide past.

“Excuse me,” he murmured, placing his hands on her hips briefly as he passed. Sam blushed a deep red and shot Marshall a glance. To his surprise, it wasn’t anger but seemed to be some other heated emotion, something closer to desire.

Marshall grinned, snatched two plates from the cupboard, then slid past her again, this time managing to keep his hands preoccupied holding the plates. Sam almost appeared to be disappointed as she gave the stir fry one last stir before switching off the stove and gently lifting the pan off the burner. She deftly grabbed a pot holder from a drawer near the stove, and two forks from the drawer nearest the fridge, then attempted to carry the pan over to the table.

“Here, let me carry that,” said Marshall, his hand brushing against hers as he gently took the pan from her grasp. Their eyes met once again, and a heat began to come to life behind Sam’s gaze. Marshall quickly set the pan on the table atop the pot holder, then closed the gap between himself and Sam. He cupped her face in his hands, studying her expression. She seemed nervous, but stared up at him with a determined, almost wicked smile as she placed her hands on his chest.

He leaned down and drew his lips to hers in a soft, yet passionate kiss. She responded in kind, using her tongue to communicate her eagerness. Her desires. Their tongues danced together as he moved his hands through her hair, then down her back, then up her shirt. She leaned into him, and suddenly their dinner was forgotten.


	5. Where to Next

Marshall’s hands slowly made their wait to Sam’s bra clasps. She pulled away, blushing furiously and looking away.

“I’m sorry Marshall,” she said dejectedly. “I-I-I...that kiss was m-m-y first. I just want to take it a little slow if that’s okay.” She bit at her thumb nail, obviously conflicted and embarrassed.

“That’s okay Sam, everyone starts somewhere,” said Marshall warmly. “I’ll just follow your lead.” He brushed his hands against the side of her face, gently bringing her chocolate brown eyes to meet his. “I’m not going anywhere just because you’re inexperienced.” Sam smiled brightly, then leaned in for another kiss. Marshall met her halfway with a sweet, affectionate brush of his lips against hers.

“Now I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” said Marshall, patting his stomach as he headed over to the table. The stir fry steamed softly from the pan, its enticing aroma drawing Marshall in.

“Sam this smells amazing, I can’t wait to try it,” he said, sitting down next to Sam. “But you first. The chef always gets first dibs.”

“Alright Marshall,” said Sam, the redness in her face still present but diminished. A smile had set up permanent residence on her face as she dug two spoonfuls of noodles, vegetables and chicken from the frying pan and toppled them onto her plate. She handed Marshall the spoon, and he gladly scooped two large spoonfuls of the delicious mixture onto his own plate with an extra bit of chicken. He dug into the stir fry with vigor, savoring every bite.

“This is fantastic,” he said, feeling spoiled after having wonderful, home cooked meals three days in a row. “I wish I could make something like this, I’d make it every day instead of cup noodles.”

“I wouldn’t mind teaching you,” said Sam as she quietly picked small mouthfuls of her food from her plate. “This kind of thing is pretty easy to make, even if you haven’t had much experience cooking.”

“My experience stops at making eggs,” said Marshall. “And if I’m honest, I’m not great at that either.” He chuckled softly, then realized with surprise that his plate was already empty. He glanced at Sam pleadingly, his desire for another serving waging war against his urge not to impose.

“Take more, please!” said Sam. “You can even take some home if you want. I’ve got enough leftovers from the last couple of meals that I still need to eat.” 

“Sam you’re amazing,” said Marshall as he dove at the spoon and helped himself to another serving.

“I beg to differ, but thank you,” said Sam, her blush creeping its way back into existence. She fidgeted slightly in her chair, seeming to want to say something, but also seeming too nervous to do so.

“What’s up Sam?” said Marshall as he wolfed down the last mouthful of his stir fry

“Well...its just…” Sam started, struggling to get the words out. “I….since I’ve never kissed anyone before, I don’t really know what we do now.” She squeezed her eyes shut bashfully. Marshall reached over and grabbed her hand tenderly.

“Like I said, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, softly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “I already started to have feelings for you when we first started to get to know each other and I found out you liked games. They started to grow even more when you told me about your journey to game development. That dedication made me weak just reading it. I want to get to know you more. I haven’t really had a real relationship before, but I’d like to give it a shot. I can’t offer much, heck we can’t really go on dates out in public because of my fans, but.” Marshall trailed off as Sam placed her other hand on top of his.

“I’d love to Marshall,” she said, smiling, her eyes pools of happiness. Marshall closed the distance between them, kissing her softly, yet passionately as their hands embraced.

“You mentioned the dedication, and that reminded me,” said Sam breathlessly as they pulled apart. “I never asked you what you thought of the game once you beat it.”

“I loved how well all the quests wrapped up in the end,” said Marshall. “It really felt like my character made a positive impact on the kingdom. It was also so clever that the Deus Ex Machina ended up not being a weapon at all, but actually a cross for the ghost princess.”

“Ah, so you got that ending,” said Sam, grinning.

“Wait, there’s multiple endings?” said Marshall excitedly, itching to start up another playthrough. “How many are there?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out,” said Sam teasingly.

“Oh that reminds me, I did end up filming my playthrough,” he said. “Would it be alright if I uploaded it? I think it would be great for my fans to get a real look at your game, it deserves it.”

“Well, alright,” said Sam nervously.

“Don’t worry Sam, everyone will love it once they see what its really like,” said Marshall, patting her hand. He pushed himself away from the table and snatched his and Sam’s plate.

“I’ll wash these then I need to head back over to my place,” said Marshall as he strolled over to the sink and gently set the plates in to begin washing.

“Just a light rinse is fine for the dishwasher, its a pretty good one,” said Sam. “Mrs. Whipple made sure not to cheap out on the appliances.”

“I guess I hadn’t really noticed since I don’t make many dishes,” chuckled Marshall as he set the plates and silverware in the dishwasher and washed his hands. He headed over to the front door and slipped on his shoes.

“So when are you free next,” he said, wrapping his arms around Sam’s waste and swaying gently.

“I have all of Saturday free,” said Sam, blushing as she rested her arms on Marshall’s chest.

“Its a date then!” said Marshall excitedly, leaning down for a long kiss. “See you then Sam.”

“Yeah, bye Marshall,” said Sam, waving as he closed the front door behind him and headed back to his apartment. He practically skipped over to his door, then slammed it behind him as he kept his overwhelming happiness contained.

“Aw yeah!” he shouted as he kicked off his shoes and waltzed over to his office to edit the first video of his Ruminate playthrough.


	6. The Next Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam comes over to teach Marshall how to cook for their first date night.

Marshall jumped out of his office chair as he heard a soft knock at his apartment door, the unmistakable sound of Sam’s timid, small hands announcing her presence outside. It was late in the afternoon on the Saturday of their first day. He had dug out one of his nicer, form-fitting t-shirts and a dark pair of jeans. His shoulder-length black hair was partially tied up, still leaving some length while also revealing the full features of his face.

“Hey Sam…” he said as he opened the door, then stopped suddenly as he saw her outfit. A pair of tight fitting jeans accompanied a maroon shirt that was loose at the bosom, but cinched at the waist to accentuate her curves. Marshall failed to re-discover his words for a minute, shocked at the abrupt change in style from what he was used to from Sam.

“Is it too much?” she asked, blushing, gesturing at the clothes she was wearing as she stepped through the doorway. “You know, maybe it is. I can go change, I’ll be right back.” She turned to leave, but Marshall gently caught her upper arm.

“Sam no, you’re beautiful,” said Marshall, his fingertips whispering softly along her jawline. She quivered at his touch, her eyes burning passionately. He pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss with one hand and shoved the front door closed with the other.

After what seemed like both an eternity and mere moments, the two parted breathlessly. Sam held a plastic bag of groceries in one hand, and took a second to ground herself before speaking.

“I brought some ingredients to make dinner tonight,” she said, rummaging through the bag as she attempted to quell her quivering body.

“Oh, what’s the plan?” asked Marshall excitedly, resting his head on her shoulder to peak into the bag while maintaining proximity.

“I…was thinking some pasta might be fun, and easy too,“ she said. “Do you like creamy sauces or something with tomatoes? I brought ingredients for either bolognese or alfredo.”

“Alfredo sounds great to me,” said Marshall, thinking he would be ecstatic with either, but chose the one he’d prefer slightly more.

“Alright, I’ll just go put the extra ingredients away. Did you want to start cooking now or later?” Sam strolled over to the fridge and slowly pulled out the ingredients that needed refrigeration and placed them neatly in Marshall’s nearly-empty refrigerator.

“I’m going to be honest, I’m starving,” said Marshall, just remembering that he’d skipped lunch. “We can start now if you want!”

“Then I’ll get started,” said Sam as she tied her short hair back into a small ponytail. “Do you have a cutting board and a knife? I was planning on cooking some chicken to go along with it.”

“In fact,” Marshall said as he slid over to his knife block and the drawer in front of it. “I do! I haven’t really used them but I do have them.” Marshall thought back to his optimism when he’d first purchased his kitchenware, swearing he wouldn’t be like all the other ViewTubers who chose their work over learning to cook. His shame gnawed at the pit of his stomach, begging to unleash his anxiety that had been kept at bay since his relationship with Sam had blossomed.

“That’s okay, I’ll just rinse them off a bit if you’ve never used them,” said Sam as she headed over to the sink with the knife and plastic cutting board.

“It’s a bit embarrassing isn’t it, a full grown adult not being able to cook much of anything,” said Marshall dejectedly, his normally cheerful persona slipping slightly. Sam set the knife and cutting board aside and closed the distance between herself and Marshall. She stood before him, staring up into his eyes with a caring expression.

“It’s okay Marshall,” said Sam. “You can’t be good at everything, and you’re willing to learn so that’s all that matters.”

“Thanks Sam,” said Marshall, smiling as he felt his sadness slip away. “So what can I do? I want to try something new.”

Sam set about teaching Marshall how to cut the raw chicken she’d brought into strips, starting by demonstrating the technique she uses with the kitchen knife. Marshall was hesitant, and his cuts rough at first, but he seemed to get the hang of it by the second chicken breast and was brimming with excitement.

After retrieving his frying pan, Marshall worked on cooking the chicken strips as Sam worked on the sauce. She showed him the websites she usually used for recipes, and taught him what a roux was. Marshall was amazed that a term that sounded so complicated was just a combination of flour and butter, and was even more astonished that it formed the base of many things he loved to eat already.

“You mean I could make mac and cheese with this instead of making the stuff out of the box?” asked Marshall as he watched the roux bubble lazily in Sam’s pot.

“Yeaup, and it’ll taste way better too,” she said happily as she slowly incorporated the rest of the ingredients. Marshall felt his food knowledge expand exponentially as he helped Sam complete the last of the meal and combine everything together in one massive bowl. It wasn’t displayed in a fancy manner, given that the largest bowl Marshall owned was a cheap plastic mixing bowl, but it served its purpose to hold the delicious combination of noodles, alfredo and seared chicken.

“Thanks again for teaching me all this,” said Marshall as they dug in at Marshall’s kitchen countertop bar. “I had a lot of fun, and I learned a ton. You’re a pro when it comes to cooking.” He smiled as he savored a strip of chicken drenched in creamy sauce.

“Oh I don’t think I’m that good,” said Sam softly. “I’ve just picked things up along the way as I looked up more recipes. I usually stick to things that are relatively easy to make so I have time to work on my game after work.”

“I still think that’s great, being driven enough to learn,” said Marshall as he polished off the last of his plate. “By the way, how’s your new game coming along?”

“Programming wise, its progressing,” said Sam. “But in terms of the art, I’ve hit a dead-end. The artist I teamed up with for Ruminate isn’t available anymore, so I’ll have to figure out how to hire one and what that process entails. That’s a bit terrifying to me honestly, but I’ll get to it eventually.”

“Yeah I imagine that’s gotta be tough,” said Marshall, fighting the urge to bring up his artistic talents as he brought his empty plate over to the sink. He’d become so discouraged by his lack of progress so long ago that he’d given up any hopes of becoming a game concept artist. He reached his hand in Sam’s direction as he noticed her empty plate, which she handed to him.

Sam helped Marshall clean up, putting away the leftovers in Marshall’s fridge as Marshall loaded the plates and other kitchen utensils into the dishwasher.

“So, what do you want to do for the rest of the night?” asked Marshall as he dried his freshly-washed hands on a kitchen towel. “I’ve got games, movies, and I might have a couple board games but I’d need to go find them if that’s what you’re interested in.”

“A movie sounds great,” said Sam, blushing and sheepishly looking away. Marshall wondered at her reaction, but shrugged it off and pulled out his laptop. They scrolled through his digital library, and eventually settled on an action flick, James Wick. 

“Sorry I don’t have a couch, did you want to watch it in my office, or are you comfortable sitting on the bed?”

“Oh uh,” Sam said, flustered. She seemed to be battling two conflicting voices in her head. “The...bed is fine,” she managed to answer, blushing more furiously.

“We can totally use the office if that’d be easier for you Sam,” he said. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No the bed is fine,” said Sam more forcefully, taking Marshall by surprise. She got herself adjusted, a pillow propped up against her back and her legs tucked up in front of her. He cut the lights in the room and positioned the laptop on the bed, cursing the fact that he hadn’t yet bought a TV.

“Can you see okay?” said Marshall as he got comfortable beside her, adjusting the laptop screen for the perfect viewing angle.

“Great,” Sam squeaked, seeming nervous. Marshall grinned and started up the movie, then settled back to his spot. He smoothly placed one arm around Sam’s shoulder, and she leaned into his chest, causing a slight uptick in his heart rate. He could feel her trembling slightly for a few moments before the quaking slowly subsided.

“Sam, you don’t need to push yourself in terms of physical intimacy,” said Marshall, unable to pay attention to the movie at this point.

“I’m not,” she said as she reached up and pulled his mouth to hers. Marshall was instantly consumed with a primal desire to learn every curve of her body. To share in the gripping, irreplicable intensity felt when becoming one with another being in the ecstasy of sex. His hand ran up her shirt, and he pulled himself from their gripping duel of tongues to whisper in her ear.

“What do you want me to do?” he purred. He felt Sam tremble at the whisper of his breath on her neck.

“I want you,” breathed Sam in response, tugging at the button on his jeans. The memory of her marathon porn session came to mind, and Marshall realized he may have underestimated Sam’s desires. Misinterpreted the trembling as nerves when maybe it could have also been something else. Desire.

He brushed his lips against her neck and heard her gasp quietly, suddenly taken off guard.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he said. “I’ll go as far as you want to.”

“Then don’t stop,” said Sam, her awkward demeanor suddenly banished and replaced with an overwhelming lust. Marshall grinned and nibbled at her ear.

“With pleasure,” he growled, as he slipped her shirt over her head and continued to explore her body with his lips. Quickly, clothing disappeared along with any amount of distance between them. They were lost in the exploration of each other, oblivious to the world around them. Their movie lay abandoned, its action-packed scenes playing out to an absent audience as Sam and Marshall crossed into the realm of ultimate intimacy.

Sam lay breathing deeply beside him, shaking slightly. Marshall rested his head on her bosom, holding her tenderly.

“I...might need...my inhaler,” she said breathlessly.

“Where’s it at, in your bag?” said Marshall as he pushed himself upright and headed over to Sam’s belongings near the entryway.

“Yeah, there’s only one in there,” she said, wheezing slightly. Marshall rushed over and opened the small purse she’d brought along. He quickly found the inhaler near the top of the pile of items contained within and rushed it back to her.

She took a couple puffs of the inhaler, then sat deeply breathing for a few moments as she waited for the medicine to settle in.

“You okay?” Marshall asked worriedly, feeling a little guilty as he was partially at fault for her needing the inhaler in the first place.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine in a second,” said Sam, her hand over her chest. “Don’t worry, its not your fault, just my cursed small lung capacity.” It was as if she could sense what Marshall was feeling without him needing to communicate it.

“Okay good,” said Marshall, relieved. He rested his head on her shoulder and gave her cheek a small peck. “I’m going to be honest, for your first time, you clearly knew what you were doing.”

“I...well...I may have done some...research before,” Sam said, blushing furiously.

“Yeah, I heard,” Marshall said with a chuckle.

“Wait, you heard?” Sam said incredulously, meeting Marshall’s eyes with a look of panic.

“Yeah we do share a wall after all, and they’re not really thick,” said Marshall. “But that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I thought it was pretty badass for someone to just put that on without headphones.”

“Oh my god,” said Sam, burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.

“Sam, its okay, plenty of people watch it,” Marshall said as he gently grabbed her hands and slowly pulled them free of her face.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right, my friends said something similar,” said Sam, slowly calming herself. “They were actually the ones who suggested it after those...nosebleeds I had when I was taking care of you.”

“So it really was like an anime!” teased Marshall. Sam blushed, but smiled back at him.

“Yeah, just like that,” she said. “Pretty pathetic right?”

“I’m honestly more impressed that you actually replicated anime in real life,” said Marshall, laughing softly. Sam giggled along with him and tilted her head to rest on his. He nuzzled into her chest, causing the pair to fall back on the bed in a comfortable embrace.

“Now how about that movie,” said Marshall.

“Yeah, lets watch it for real this time,” said Sam as she stroked his head.


	7. Artist Needed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Marshall have been dating for a couple months now, and the subject of the art for Evermake is brought up.

The first couple months of Marshall’s relationship with Sam went by in a blissful burst of intimacy, both physical and emotional. As they grew to know every inch of each other’s bodies and their intimate pleasures, they also became more deeply aware of how the other person went about their daily lives.

Marshall watched as Sam committed herself to her job wholeheartedly, even though it wasn’t her passion in life. Sure, she might mutter a complaint about her boss pushing her to improve in one area or another, usually centered around her social anxiety, but she clearly cared about the company. Her dedication shined brightly when she ended up working late as deadlines approached, especially when it came to her most recent project.

She successfully drafted and presented a new project to a client she felt very strongly about, though she couldn’t tell Marshall exactly who until the project was finished. He understood that, given his background in business law, but he hesitated to tell her that was the reason why he readily accepted her explanation. He wasn’t quite ready to open that miasma of depression, given the relationship was so fresh and blossoming. He felt that his personal problems would only serve to sully the closeness they’d so carefully cultivated, and so he kept his past locked away in a deep corner of his heart.

Marshall heard a soft knock at his front door, and quickly rushed to open it. Sam dragged her feet through the entrance, kicked her shoes off, then flopped on Marshall’s bed. She was wearing another of her newer outfits that suited her so much better than her previous wardrobe: a pleated skirt that hugged her hips and hung loosely just above her knee accompanied by a fitted yellow shirt which revealed her seductive curves.

“Rough day Sam?” he asked as he slid into bed beside her and gently stroked her hair.

“Yeah, but its done,” she sighed. “The MVP is finally ready to show the customer. I’ll have time to work on my game again.” The pride in her voice shined through her exhaustion, which Marshall found infectious.

“Congrats Sam, that’s an amazing accomplishment,” he said, his eyes burning with passion as they met hers. “Now what kind of reward would you like?” He placed his hand seductively on her thigh.

“Oh I can think of a few things,” replied Sam wickedly, her lust eviscerating the fatigue she felt and replacing it with burning passion. She shoved Marshall, who gave in easily and allowed her to straddle his toned hips.

“How about you show me what you want,” said Marshall, running his hand up her thigh.

“Gladly,” she responded, grabbing his hair roughly and bending over to meet her mouth to his in a passionate kiss. Marshall deftly slipped her clothing off, and Sam reciprocated by doing away with his. Their heated bodies quickly joined one another and Marshall focused on the rhythmic give and take of sex. He focused on Sam, knowing the movements that would lead her to ecstasy. He fed off her growing excitement, riding the waves of passion until they were both quivering from the ultimate pleasure of orgasm.

Sam fell beside Marshall, winded but otherwise fine. The months of intimacy had done away with her difficulty breathing she once experienced immediately after sex.

“So, you’ll start working more on Evermake again?” asked Marshall. “I loved what I’ve played so far, it has potential to really take off.” He snuggled into her chest and rested his arm lazily across her stomach.

“Yeah,” Sam responded, slightly despondent. “To tell you the truth, I’ve hit a point where I really need an artist if I want to finish up the game. The coding and story are mostly done.” Marshall stared in silence at his kitchen island, anxiety and shame mixing together in the pit of his stomach. She had brought up a few times now that she desperately needed to find an artist, but Marshall was reluctant to offer his skills. He had never worked on a game before and didn’t have the confidence that he could do Sam’s game justice.

“You know Marshall,” Sam started, her voice trailing off for a moment. Marshall heard her heart flutter within her chest, as it does when she’s trying to say something that’s difficult for her. “I may have...accidentally...seen your sketchbook.”

Marshall lifted his head quickly and stared into Sam’s chocolate eyes, panic rising in his throat. She must have noticed something in his eyes as her own widened and fear twinged her expression.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, obviously pushing through her own fear of confrontation. “I know I shouldn’t have, it was that time I fixed your save file for you. Before we were dating. I saw it on the ground, and I just….couldn’t help myself. If I’m honest, I don’t know why I did that, I know something like that is very personal.”

“Sam, its okay,” said Marshall, looking away from her. He felt Sam’s small hand brush against the side of his face as she moved to meet his gaze.

“No, its not okay,” said Sam. “And again, I’m sorry for prying. The reason why I brought it up, besides finally getting that off my chest, is that I think your art is perfect for Evermake.”

“Sam I don’t know,” said Marshall. “I’ve never done it before, and I don’t want to ruin your game.”

“Weren’t you the one that lectured me not to give up before I’ve even tried?” said Sam, huffing slightly. “Marshall, your art is more than good enough for my game. Have you seen my poor excuse for stick figures I’m using right now?” Marshall chuckled at that, recounting the hours him and Sam spent walking through different portions of her game.

“I just don’t want to ruin your game,” said Marshall, his normally confident exterior eroding to self doubt.

“I know you wouldn’t Marshall,” said Sam, kissing him gently. “Besides, how will you know if you never even try?” Her eyes glinted as she used Marshall’s words against him. He smiled and pulled Sam in for another kiss.

“Alright, I’ll give it a try,” he said, resting his hands on her shoulders. “But you have to promise me you won’t hate me if everything goes to shit.”

“I could never Marshall,” said Sam, her tone serious. “I’m overjoyed that you even want to try. That’s more than enough for me.” She slipped her hands over his shoulders and entwined her fingers behind his neck. She stared deeply into his eyes, radiating a deep affection with every fiber of her being.

“Now, you said you could think of a few things you wanted to celebrate with early, but we’ve only done a couple so far,” said Marshall as he nibbled her ear and moved his way down to her neck. “How about you show me what else you want from me.”

“With pleasure,” said Sam, a soft moan escaping her lips as she shuddered at his touch.

____________

The next day, Marshall arrived at Sam’s door with a fresh set of art supplies for rough drafting characters. He carried a new sketchbook and a small pencil case, the contents of which consisted of a few different pencils, a hard eraser, a kneaded eraser, and a soft-tipped pen for inking. 

After their second round, Sam and Marshall had discussed the next steps for Sam’s game. She wanted to start with some black and white sketches and then go from there, and Marshall agreed to bring over the materials necessary.

As Sam’s apartment door opened, the smell of Hawaiian pizza wafted into the hallway.

“Aw yeah pizza!” said Marshall as he slipped off his shoes at the entrance and placed them neatly beside one another.

“Yeah I figured I would save us some time and just order some pizza for dinner instead of cooking,” she said as she gave Marshall a peck on the lips. He went in for a much more passionate embrace, but she stopped him.

“No sexy time until after we’ve worked on the game a bit,” she said sternly. Marshall shot her his best puppy dog eyes, pleading with her to change her mind, but she showed no sign of budging.

“Alright,” he sighed in disappointment. “But after we do some work.” He followed up his statement with a seductive smirk. Sam turned away and let out a slight chuckle, unwilling to show Marshall that he’d broken through her defenses slightly. She snatched a piece of pizza and plopped it on a plate sitting beside the pizza box as she made her way over to her computer desk. Marshall followed suit, grabbing two pieces then settling in beside her at the second chair Sam dug out of storage for him to use when he came to visit.

“So I was thinking we should start with planning the main character,” said Sam. Marshall nodded in agreement.

“I actually broke in these sketchbooks yesterday with some ideas I had for him,” he said, flipping through the first couple of pages. Dynamic sketches littered the pages, varying from headshots to different action shots of the main character crafting and interacting with other people. Sam stared in amazement at the sketches, then turned to Marshall in awe.

“Its like you read my mind Marshall,” said Sam. “This is exactly how I imagined him.”

“I took all the different things you told me about him into account,” said Marshall as he pointed out the character’s cropped hair. “I also did some research on what a real craftsman looks like, which is why he’s got a bit of toned muscles.”

“I also really like his outfit,” said Sam, pointing out the practical tank top Marshall drew the character in. “Its practical, but also still attracts the character to your eyes.”

“Yeah that was why I added these,” said Marshall as he pointed to the two tool belts crossing the character’s chest, filled with different tools a craftsman may need. “I thought it made him look cooler than if he just had a shirt on.”

Sam and Marshall continued their back and forth, Sam complementing Marshall’s art and pointing out the pieces she liked while Marshall explained his reasoning behind each of his design choices as they slowly whittled away at the pineapple-covered pizza.

“I think we have enough to start converting some of this to game assets,” said Sam, looking over the couple of sketches Marshall drew during their discussions along with the ones he brought. “Do you have a digital tablet?”

“I’d have to look honestly,” said Marshall. “I know I had a cheap one at some point, but I have no idea where it ended up during the move.”

“Let me take care of it,” said Sam, clicking her way over to an online shop. “Its the least I can do after I bullied you into this.” Marshall gently placed his hand on Sam’s hand that controlled the mouse.

“Sam, you don’t have to do that for me,” he said. “I’m sure I can find my old one.”

“No, please Marshall,” said Sam. “Its my game, and I don’t mind funding some up front costs for it.” Marshall sat silently, guilt swallowing him. He tried not to look in Sam’s eyes, conflicted about accepting something so expensive just for him to use. Sam turned away from her computer screen and met Marshall’s eyes intently.

“I’ve decided to gift this to you Marshall, so please don’t feel guilty,” said Sam as she read into the expression on his face. She smiled deeply as she stroked the side of his face tenderly.

“I know, you’re right,” Marshall responded, leaning into her touch. “Sorry, I just have trouble accepting gifts, but I’ll work on it. I promise.” Sam smiled and brushed her lips against his in a tender, passionate kiss.

“Thank you Marshall,” Sam said. “I can tell you’re really pushing yourself for me, and I can’t convey to you how thankful I am.” She pulled away slightly, suddenly bashful. “Not just for this, but I’m also thankful that we even go this close in the first place.” She buried her face in her hands. “God, sorry Marshall, that probably sounded so sappy.”

“Yeah it did,” said Marshall, chuckling as he gently grabbed her wrists to softly pull her hands away from her face. “But that’s okay. I can’t tell you how happy it made me feel.” He slipped his fingers under her chin and lifted her lips to his own, kissing her passionately and teasing her tongue with his own.

“Now about that sexy time you mentioned,” he said slyly as he tugged at the bottom hem of her shirt.

“Yeah, I think we’re done for today,” said Sam as she pulled Marshall in for another kiss, this time initiating the battle of tongues with her own as she roughly led him to her bedroom.


	8. Their First Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Marshall have wrapped up their game and have successfully beta tested with their friends. They're finally ready to release it to the public!

Months of back and forth about image assets, testing, then re-testing after tweaks, Evermake was finally complete. Marshall beamed with pride as they booted up the game in its entirety on each of their phones and happily played away as that now all-too-familiar craftsman and the eclectic group of adventurers who visited his shop.

Sam and Marshall silently continued their final play through for hours, Marshall lounging comfortably on Sam’s couch with his head resting in her lap. Sam absentmindedly stroked his long hair with her free hand, the pair of them completely absorbed in their game.

“Sam, lets release it,” said Marshall after a long but comfortable silence between them.

“Are you sure its ready?” said Sam, a twinge of apprehension in her voice.

“I think its damn near perfect at this point,” said Marshall. “We also had our friends beta test it as well. Collin certainly tried his best to find bugs like it was his job, but we’ve fixed all the ones he found, and everyone else loved it. Heck, I think Vikki and Angela still play it every day.” Sam smiled proudly. The slightest hint of color on her cheeks showed how deeply happy she was that her second game was a great success in their friend circle already.

“Okay, lets ship it then,” said Sam, setting her phone aside as she made her way over to her computer. She had saved the process of upgrading their app from beta to a full release in both app stores, and just needed to consult her documentation before kicking it off. It should be as easy as clicking a button in the right place, but with her background in software development, Sam prepared herself for at least some amount of resistance.

Surprisingly, the Google Play release went off without a hitch, and was truly just pushing the button to switch it from closed beta to release. The Apple store was just slightly more complicated, in that Sam had to submit the app for review, but otherwise was similarly easy.

“I think that may have been the easiest release I’ve done in a while,” said Sam as she pushed herself away from her computer and plopped herself back down on the couch next to Marshall. “Could you pull up the Play store and see if it shows up there?” She nuzzled her head into the crook of his shoulder, watching over his shoulder as he deftly navigated through phone menus. He made use of the test Android phone Sam purchased, since they both owned iPhones but wanted to release on Google Play as well.

“Oh my god Sam, here it is!” Marshall squealed excitedly. The Play store page for their game sat proudly on the phone screen, a perfect mixture of text descriptions and screenshots that they had carefully crafted to catch the interest of gamers scrolling through the store. Different shots of the store owner, a handful of the adventurers, as well as action shots of the crafting minigame comprised the collection of screenshots. Marshall wiped a stray tear from his eye as pride swelled within his chest. His hidden dream to become a video game artist had finally been realized, and it was thanks to the astonishing woman snuggled next to him. Sam noticed Marshall wipe away the tear and raised her head, meeting his gaze with a worried expression.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” she asked, reaching up and placing a gentle hand on the side of his face.

“I’m more than okay Sam,” he said, wrapping his fingers around her extended wrist. “I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I am at this moment. I never thought I’d make it as a video game artist, and so I never even tried. You helped me overcome that fear, and I...I don’t even think I can put into words how grateful I am to you. Every day it feels like you’re this miraculous spark of light that keeps me from falling into the dark place I was in before, and I just feel like the luckiest man alive.” He leaned into her hand still resting on his cheek, relishing the feeling of her slender fingers brushing against his skin. Sam’s cheeks flushed at the sudden rush of Marshall’s most intimate thoughts.

“What do you mean by dark place?” Sam asked, a hint of curiosity mixed with empathetic pain swirling in her chocolate irises.

“I…” Marshall started as a nervous, fluttering feeling rose in his stomach. He navigated uncharted territory with Sam, having never been in a serious relationship before and wasn’t sure how to approach the subject of his past. He kept the estrangement from his father a guarded secret, given society’s obsession with maintaining familial connections no matter the circumstances. He also struggled with how to bring up his alcoholism and recovery, another imperfection that he preferred to keep hidden deep within his heart.

As he stared into the depths of Sam’s eyes, losing himself in those tranquil pools of amber, he felt the tide of anxiety drift away. Without words, he felt the deep connection between them and the trust he rarely built with others outside of Dean and Collin. He felt in his bones that he could talk to Sam about these things, and so much more, and she would accept him all the more. Unbidden tears welled in his eyes as the dam holding his secrets at bay cracked heavily.

“I never really talked about my past with you,” he began. “Its not really a happy story, and I’m afraid of losing what we’ve built over these last few months.”

“Marshall,” Sam said as she cupped his face in her hands, meeting his gaze with ferocity. “You can trust me. I’ll listen attentively if you want to tell me about your past, but believe me when I say that I’ll still care for you deeply no matter what.” She gently pulled him into a deep kiss, as if to seal the words she spoke with her deep affection for Marshall.

“Sam, I love you,” Marshall said before he could catch himself. As soon as the words left his lips, his eyes widened at the realization of what he’d known subconsciously for quite some time now. He raised his hand to his mouth and brushed his fingers against his lower lips, his face awash with a mixture of shock and joy.

“I...I love you too Marshall,” Sam squeaked awkwardly, seeming to struggle with the concept herself. Her face softened as she realized the three important words they had exchanged. Before she could say anything more, Marshall pulled her into a passionate embrace, his soul burning in a mixture of love and lust so strong he couldn’t control himself. Sam reciprocated in kind, seeming to feel the same maelstrom of emotions.  
Their sex had always been frequent and passionate, but this time felt different. It was as if the air was supercharged. Every kiss, every touch ignited Marshall’s skin, driving him mad with desire. Their foreplay lasted only moments, Marshall desperately needing to become one with Sam while Sam practically begged him to. They were speechless as each began to pant harder. Sam’s moans grew louder, and Marshall felt himself reaching the high of climax as they grasped each other tightly.

Marshall tumbled to the side of Sam, breathless with the sheer intensity of what they had both experienced. He turned his head to see Sam reach for her inhaler at her bedside table and knew she felt the same. He rested his head between her breasts and nuzzled against her chest.

“That was…certainly new,” said Marshall. “I know we’ve bumped uglies more times than I can count, but I wasn’t expecting three words to have that kind of an impact.” Sam sputtered as she tried to suppress a laugh at the expression Marshall used for sex, and he smirked at her response.

“They do say love is one of the strongest emotions out there,” said Sam as she idly ran her fingers through Marshall’s hair. They lay together for a time, Marshall drinking in the serene company of Sam as he enjoyed the feeling of her demure fingers brushing over his head.

“So did you really want to know about my past?” he asked, breaking the silence. Sam sat up and pulled her clothes towards her.

“Definitely Marshall, but only when you’re ready,” said Sam. “You can take as long or as short as you need.”

“Okay, how about tomorrow?” asked Marshall as he tugged on his pants. He almost wanted to have the conversation now and get it over with, but he also didn’t want to break the magical aura his declaration of love had created.

“Sure Marshall, lets talk about it tomorrow then,” said Sam. She smiled, clearly elated by the events of today, and Marshall suspected she was also happy that he was opening up to her a little bit.

A sudden ping on Sam’s phone turned her attention away from him, followed by an excited squeak as she flicked away her lock screen.

“Marshall, we’ve already had a few downloads!” she squealed, her eyes alight with joy. Marshall could barely contain his excitement as he rushed to her side and peered down at the phone. Sure enough, a graph showed a slow uptick in the amount of users who had downloaded their game. A similar line crept up showing the number of active players, meaning that people had not only downloaded their game, but were also playing it.

“This is a great start, but we should work on some advertisement tomorrow now that we know its working,” said Sam as she scrolled through the comments to make sure none were screaming about how broken the game was. Marshall was confident in Sam’s ability to program and had attempted to assure Sam that the release would go smoothly, but her plan still included some time to see if the initial rollout was a success.

“Then lets plan on my place tomorrow,” said Marshall, tugging on his shirt and light sweatshirt.

“Or,” said Sam playfully, slipping her arms around his waist. “I could just spend the night, and we can do what we need to once we wake up in the morning.” Marshall bent over and gently kissed Sam’s lips.

“I think that may be a better idea,” he growled. “Though I don’t know how much sleep we’ll get.” Sam grinned wickedly in response as she tossed a spare set of clothes in a small bag beside her bed. The rest of her toiletries were already stashed inside. Given she often spent the night at Marshall’s, she had a to-go bad at the ready whenever the need struck her.

“Well then maybe we should head over there now and see where the night takes us,” said Sam as she slung her bag over her shoulder. She made her way to the front door, swinging her hips with a slight exaggeration in what Marshall knew was a sign that she wasn’t quite done with him yet. He nodded, returning her smile, as he collected the couple of things he brought over and followed her out the front door.


	9. A Hidden Past

Marshall laid silently in bed, resting his hand on the shoulder of Sam who slept soundly beside him, her head comfortably nestled against his chest. The anxiety gnawing at the pit of his stomach prevented him from sleeping. His thoughts raced as he debated how much he wanted to divulge to Sam about his past.

He had promised to tell her everything, but the thought of him spilling his closest guarded secrets rose bile to the back of his throat. He couldn’t really help that Dean and Collin knew, hell they’d been there when all the shit went down. He wasn’t really able to hide it from them, but Sam? He was so anxious to tell her about who he really was, so nervous that she would discard him the moment she realized the darkness he hid inside. He clenched his fists unconsciously, his knuckles whitening as the blood rushed to his fingertips. As much as he dreaded it, he had to do it. He couldn’t keep stringing Sam along with lies, not with how he felt about her.

Sam stirred as she began to awaken, her eyes darting behind her eyelids as she travelled from deep to light sleep. Marshall unclenched his fist and raised his hand to Sam’s head, gently stroking her hair. She nuzzled into his chest as her eyes fluttered open, a smile cracked across her face.

“Morning,” she muttered as she attempted to shirk off the remainder of sleep still clinging to her.  
“Morning beautiful,” said Marshall, lightly kissing her forehead. “Did you sleep well?”

“With the little bit I got, yeah,” said Sam as she wrapped her arms around Marshall’s torso. “Do eggs and toast sound good for breakfast?”

“You know I love anything you make,” said Marshall, smiling lazily.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” chuckled Sam, landing a soft kiss on his lips before pushing herself off the bed. She made her way to Marshall’s kitchen and pulled out the utensils she needed, clearly very familiar with the layout. Marshall watched her work for a few moments as he lounged in bed, then sighed and forced himself up for a quick shower and change of clothes.

After a quick roll through the shower, Marshall snagged a random pair of jeans and a shirt and snapped them on. He nervously flattened the front of his shirt as he sauntered into the kitchen. His mind whirled with all the ways he could start this conversation, and all the ways it could blow up in his face. Sam glanced his way and must have noticed something in his complexion.

“What’s got you so down?” Sam asked as she slid a fresh set of sunny side up eggs on a plate beside the stove. She left the bacon she’d decided to cook up sizzling quietly over a low heat as she hurried to Marshall’s side.

“Do you remember my promise yesterday?” he said, his voice catching slightly.

“Yeah, I do,” answered Sam. Her tone seemed slightly nervous, as if she was leery of this conversation and where it could lead as well.

“I feel like if I don’t get it off my chest now, it’ll eat at me all day anyways,” said Marshall. The words barely tumbled out of his mouth. Every fiber of his being screamed to stop, to hold in what he was about to divulge. But he knew he couldn’t run anymore. As much as the darkness within him wanted to snuff out the wonderful light of his relationship with Sam, he was too deeply in love to allow that to happen.

“Then lets talk about it over breakfast, okay?” said Sam. “I’ll listen to what you have to say without interruptions and if I have any questions I’ll wait ‘till you’re done to ask them.” Marshall nodded, accepting a plate of eggs paired with generously buttered toast as he joined Sam at his kitchen island.

Marshall shuffled his food around the plate as his stomach rebelled. The knots of anxiety left him queasy, making it impossible to take one bite of what he knew was a delicious breakfast. He sighed, mentally apologizing for the waste of food, then took a moment to calm the calamity that was his mind as much as he could.

“I guess I’ll start with the first major thing I should have told you a long time ago,” said Marshall, resisting every urge to run from this conversation and never look back. “My name...its not Marshall. Well technically it is, but Marshall is my middle name. My first name is actually Ben.” Sam’s eyes grew wide at the realization, but she held to her promise and simply gave him a curt nod, as if to encourage him to continue.

“And my last name is Lawson, not Law,” he said. “You’d think I used a fake name to keep my fans from finding me, and that’s certainly part of it, but I was really hoping it would keep my family off my back. It did work for a bit, but my sister found out. So far she’s kept it from my dad, but who knows how long that’ll last.” He stared down at his food and swirled it around his plate, avoiding eye contact with Sam.

“My dad is...a terrifying man if I’m honest,” Marshall said, shuddering slightly. “He’s a hell of a lawyer, and is in charge of a hugely successful firm. He was insistent that I would be the one to take it over whenever he felt like retiring. When I was younger, I just went along with what he wanted, and even went to law school for a bit. But after learning about what it takes to really be a lawyer, I just knew I wasn’t cut out for it.”

“I tried for a long time to have the sort of...detachment my father seems to have from the world, thinking it would make me stronger, but it didn’t. I just ended up hurting the people around me.” Marshall paused for a long time, collecting himself as he felt the stinging sensation of unbidden tears. From the corner of his eye he could see Sam staring intently at him, seeming to struggle internally with what she was hearing. He gripped his fork tightly in his right hand, then continued.

“I dropped out of law school and pursued what I thought would make me happy, which was game design, but I couldn’t find a job once I graduated. Thankfully I had my ViewTube channel that I started during my college years, so I was able to lean on that, especially once I lucked out and got a huge amount of followers, and that’s it really.” Marshall set down his fork and pressed his forehead. The roller coaster of emotions left him drained and with an increasingly painful headache.

“Mar…Ben I...really don’t know where to start,” said Sam. “But before my questions, I do want to say thank you for telling me all this. I won’t lie, I was a little upset when you started because you’d kept your real name from me, but after hearing why it makes sense. And at the end of the day, it came from you and that’s all that really matters.” She gently placed her hand on his shoulder. Tears dripped silently down his cheeks, though he couldn’t quite puzzle out if it was from joy or sadness.

“So do you want me to call you Ben or Marshall?” asked Sam as she lovingly stroked his upper back.

“Honestly Sam, whatever you’re most comfortable with,” he sniffled.  
“My comfort doesn’t really matter here, what matters is what you want,” said Sam. “It might be hard for me to switch at first, but I’ll get used to it quickly enough.”

“Ben then,” she responded. He felt his mood beginning to lift slightly. Sam never ceased to surprise him with the level of empathy and care she showed towards others, him especially.

“Alright Ben,” she said with emphasis on his name. “You said Lawson is your last name? Like the Lawson firm?”

“That’s the one,” Ben answered. “I’m surprised you’ve heard of it, they mostly focus on corporate law.”

“I think our fathers butted heads at some point,” explained Sam. “I heard a lot of unkind things about the Lawson firm in the past from my father. There was a big lawsuit filed against my father’s company, and Lawson firm was representing the people that filed the suit.”

“I...didn’t even realize, I’m so sorry Sam,” said Ben, his face plastered with shock.

“Its in the past, and my father won the case anyways,” said Sam as she chewed on her thumb. Ben recognized it as a nervous habit. He reached over and held her hand, pulling her thumb away from her mouth.

“If you’re worried about what your dad will think, we’ll figure that out when the time comes,” said Ben. Sam smiled slightly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Ben smiled back at her as he shared her apprehension. He knew with how the relationship was progressing, there was a possibility that he’d meet Sam’s parents, but he was banking on only having to deal with the normal level of questioning. This definitely didn’t bode well for his eventual meeting of Mr. and Mrs. Young.

“Did you have any other questions?” asked Ben as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“No, not really,” said Sam, softening slightly as his gentle touch.

“Would it be okay if we maybe played a game together or watched a movie before we start on the ad for our game?” asked Ben as he remembered the other task on their todo list for the day. Now that he finally got what he needed to say out in the open, he felt completely drained. From the looks of it, Sam herself could use a bit of recouping after hearing a whirlwind of revelations about her boyfriend. She nodded in agreement then pursed her lips as she mulled over which option she preferred.

“Lets go with a movie,” said Sam. “I think we’re both in the need of some serious cuddles right now, and you know how intense I get about games.”

“Aw yeah snugs!” said Ben. He wolfed down his cold eggs and toast, not really minding as they still tasted divine, then followed Sam to the bed where she was already getting a movie of her choice set up.

As they settled down in each other’s arms, Ben turned to face Sam and cupped his hand against her jawline.

“Sam, I know that was a lot to take in, and I just want to say thank you for listening to it all,” he said before he pulled her into a tender kiss. “Thank you for accepting me for who I am. I love you.”

“I love you too Ben,” Sam said, pulling him into a deeper kiss. They stayed glued to each other for a time, embracing without the typical heat they felt between them. Once Sam pulled away, Ben wrapped his arms around her and nestled into the valley between her neck and shoulder as they lost themselves in a romantic comedy they’d both been dying to watch.


	10. Meet the Parents

“Sam, how does this look?” asked Ben as he held up the sketch of a potential advertisement. The handful of adventurer characters stood together, each taking their signature pose. The blacksmith main character stood to the side, lounging against his smithing hammer with a bemused smile.

“I think that looks perfect for a banner ad,” said Sam happily as she searched around for information on how to get their ad set up with advertisers.

“Great, I’ll start on the digital version then,” said Ben as he set his sketch aside. “I’ll probably head over to my apartment to focus if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure,” said Sam, seemingly slightly disheartened at the sudden loss of Ben’s company. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed the crown of her head softly, squeezing his body closer to hers.

“I’ll be back in a bit, I promise,” he said. As he broke away, a knock sounded from Sam’s front door. Sam pushed herself from her desk and peered through the tiny peephole, then gasped.

“Shit, its my mom,” said Sam, suddenly slightly panicked.

“Wait, why is that bad?” asked Ben. Sam bit her lower lip nervously.

“I honestly....haven’t told her about us,” she admitted. “I felt like it wasn’t something I wanted to randomly bring up over the phone, so I was waiting for her to get back. I wasn't expecting her to come visit literally the day she got back though.” Ben’s face dropped slightly, disheartened that she hadn’t at least talked to her mother about their relationship, but he nodded in agreement.

“Well, better late than never I supposed,” he said, straightening up his hair slightly. He peered down at his comfortable, yet unflattering clothing choice for the day and regretted it slightly. He also accepted that he couldn’t do much about it at this point.

Sam creaked the front door open and her mother strolled through. Samantha oozed confidence with every step. Her face instantly lit up when she laid eyes on Ben, then shot a glance at Sam, eyebrows raised slightly.

“This is something new honey,” she said in a bemused tone. “I’m a bit surprised you didn’t tell me, but I’m happy for you dear.” She wrapped her arms around Sam and pulled her into a loving embrace.

“Thanks mom, I missed you,” said Sam, returning her mother’s hug happily. They pulled apart and smiled at one another. Samantha kicked off her high heels at the entryway and strolled over to Ben, arms extended for a hug.

“Its great to meet you,” said Samantha, wrapping her arms around Ben in a motherly hug. “And your name is?”

“Ben Lawson ma’am,” he said formally, his voice slightly shaky. His own experience with authority figures left him slightly nervous.

“Lawson?” she asked in shock, her eyebrows attempting to escape her forehead. Sam must have caught the expression, as she started in immediately.

“Yes mom, that Lawson,” said Sam hurriedly. “But Ben’s nothing like Mr. Lawson.” Samantha’s expression relaxed, and she turned to face Ben with a warm smile.

“I trust my daughter’s judgement,” she said. “It may take some time to convince my husband though.” Sam winced at that, causing a roil of anxiety to bubble up within the pit of Ben’s stomach. As much as he loved Sam, he’d been dreading meeting Mr. Young ever since he found out his father was involved in a lawsuit against Mr. Young’s company.

“Don’t worry, between the three of us we’ll get him to come around,” said Samantha reassuringly, patting Ben on the shoulder. Ben flashed her a weak smile, scratching his head uncomfortably.

“Oh, that’s right, I did come here for a reason other than just to see you dear,” said Samantha. “We were thinking of having dinner tomorrow as a family, and I was wondering if you were free. Ben’s welcome too, of course.” Sam bit her lower lip and shot a glance at Ben. He nodded slowly, feeling apprehensive about the situation but also wanting to clear things up with Mr. Young as soon as possible.

“Thanks mom, we’ll come,” said Sam as she gave her mother another hug.

“Great dear, I’m so excited,” said Samantha, and it seemed like she truly meant that. “Well, I do need to take care of some other stuff and pick up food for tomorrow, but I wanted to stop by and ask you in person since its been so long since we’ve seen each other in person.” Samantha planted a small peck on Sam’s cheek and pulled her in for one last hug. “I missed you so much honey.”

“I missed you too mom,” said Sam, nuzzling into her mother’s embrace. “I’m really glad you’re back.”

“Me too Sam,” she said as she headed for her shoes. She slipped on her high heels, then waved affectionately at both Sam and Ben. “I’ll see you two tomorrow!” she said happily as she closed the front door behind her. Sam engaged the locks, then sighed heavily as she seemed to shrink into herself.

“I know Sam, I’m nervous too,” admitted Ben as he pulled her in for a comforting embrace. “But it’ll be okay.” He struggled to believe his own words as they left his lips. Sam nuzzled against his chest roughly, as if trying to erase the anxiety written on her face.

“I hope so,” she said weakly.

\----------------------------------------

Sam and Ben stood outside her parents’ spacious, two-story home, hands clasped tightly. Ben squeezed Sam’s hand, as if asking for support, and she squeezed his back. She shot him a nervous smile, then led them to the front door.

Ben had found a nicer, button-up shirt to go along with a dark pair of jeans, and had tamed his hair as much as he could before him and Sam left. He hoped to make a better impression than the sorry excuse for an outfit he had on when Sam’s mother came to visit.

Sam lightly pressed the doorbell. The muffled jingle sneaked through the cracks in the front door, followed by the light sound of footsteps.

“Ah welcome!” said Samantha warmly as she opened the front door. “Come in!”

Sam led Ben by the hand through the door, then whispered for him to leave his shoes to the side. He complied silently, the nerves fluttering in his stomach making it difficult to speak. He swallowed heavily, hoping to taper down the desire to flee. He noticed two other pairs of shoes in the location where him and Sam had left theirs.

“Jay and Ruth just got here as well,” piped up Samantha over her shoulder as she led them deeper into the home. It was as if she could sense Ben’s questions before he could ask them. Sam’s face paled slightly, clearly slightly nervous at the revelation that there were other guests to this dinner.

“Jay’s my brother and Ruth’s his girlfriend,” Sam whispered nervously to Ben. He nodded slightly as his anxiety levels crept higher. He sensed Sam’s brother may be another obstacle to overcome.

“Sam’s here everyone, and she brought her boyfriend!” sang Samantha as she practically danced over to the kitchen. She busied herself with the finishing touches on dinner, leaving Sam and Ben to the wolves.

“Boyfriend?” Sam’s father grumbled, turning to shoot a glare at Ben. His eyes immediately widened as he took in Ben’s features. Sam positioned herself slightly in front of Ben, as if anticipating what her father would say next.

“You’re a Lawson,” he snarled as he jumped to his feet. Ben shrank back slightly while Sam took a protective step forward.

“Dad, before you judge him, maybe you should hear him out,” said Sam angrily. Ben looked on Sam incredulously, taking in the rare sight of her viciously protective side. Her father glared back at her and opened his mouth, but was cut off by Samantha.

“Samuel, sit down and listen to Ben before you say another word,” she commanded, jabbing her finger at the u-shaped couch in their living room. Samuel’s anger died as he stared pleadingly at his wife. She simply shook her head and emphatically gestured for him to sit, which he did reluctantly. He shot Ben a glare and motioned for him to sit on the other side of the couch. Ben nodded in response and carefully lowered himself to a seated position, attempting to avoid eye contact with Samuel out of shame. He realized that may not be the most effective way to show Samuel he genuinely didn’t reflect his father, so he pushed his fear to the side and raised his gaze to meet Samuel’s.

“Sir, I know you don’t like my father,” started Ben. Samuel scoffed in response.

“I think hate may be a better word for it,” said Samuel. “He cost me at least a year of recouping losses after my company’s reputation tanked from a half-baked patent lawsuit he threw my way. He didn’t care to know the facts, he just wanted to win.”

“Yeah I agree, my dad’s an ass,” said Ben flatly. “That’s why I don’t have anything to do with him, and haven’t for years.” Samuel’s expression softened as he let Ben’s words sink in. He blushed in embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hell, I’m sorry for being quick to judge Ben,” Samuel said dejectedly. He met Ben’s gaze with a spark of apprehension in his eyes. “But I’ll still be keeping a close eye on you if you’re going to keep dating my pumpkin.” Samuel shot Sam a gaze as if asking her to explain to him about her relationship in detail later. She winced slightly, as if she dreaded the conversation, which Ben understood completely after meeting Samuel himself. Ben glanced at Sam’s brother Jay, who seemed to be studying him intensely with an air of brotherly protectiveness.

 _Looks like I’ll have to prove myself to him too_ , thought Ben, realizing the work he had cut out for him as far as Sam’s family went.

The rest of the dinner went amicably. Samantha updated the family on how her Hawaii trip went and what her next excursion would be, which she excitedly told them would be in Seattle, Washington for some outdoorsy shoots. Jay and Ruth kept their updates short, simply saying they had no real change in their jobs or their personal life. The family eyed Sam and Ben expectantly.

“So, how did you two meet,” asked Samantha, smirking over her folded hands at Sam.

“Well, Ben moved in next door,” Sam started as she regaled the tale of her chance encounter with the famous ViewTuber Marshall, and how his initial review of her first game had tanked its rating. Samuel seemed to almost break his glass when he heard the harm Ben had caused Sam initially, but relaxed as Sam continued her story and explained how Ben made it up to her. She finished with informing her family about her newest game.

“And Ben did all the art for it!” she exclaimed, grasping his hand lovingly. “He’s a very talented artist, and our game is already turning out to be a great success thanks to him.” She shot him an affectionate smile.

“I think you deserve plenty of that praise yourself Sam,” he said gently. “You did program the whole thing and write the material for it.” Sam nodded, accepting the compliment shyly.

“Well, I’m glad you two have something to share that you both care so passionately about,” said Samantha, seemingly enraptured with their love story. Samuel dabbed tears from the corner of his eyes, clearly overwhelmed by his emotions.

“I’m so proud of you pumpkin,” he said, though he failed to explain exactly what he was proud of. It was clear he was struggling to get words out. Sam giggled with happiness at her parents’ reactions, which Ben took as a good sign.

Before long, Sam and Ben were waving goodbye to her parents as they left the house and headed to Ben’s car.

“So was it as bad as you thought it was gonna be?” asked Sam as she strolled over to the passenger side door.

“At first, totally,” said Ben as he slid into the driver’s side and turned the keys in the ignition. “Heck, I think your dad was two seconds away from chasing me out the door with a shotgun. But I felt better as the night went on. You have an awesome family Sam, even if they seem a bit overprotective at times.”

“Yeah I think that comes from all the medical troubles I’ve had,” said Sam, twiddling her fingers in her lap as Ben drove. “They’ve never been this way with Jay, and I don’t think I can attribute it to just me being a woman. However, I’m glad they seem to like you. Even Jay and my dad were cracking jokes with you near the end which shocked me, they’re usually extremely suspicious, and I expected them to be especially so after they found out you were a Lawson.”

“Well I think it helps that I don’t interact with my dad anymore,” sighed Ben. “Honestly I wish I could just erase that part of my life, but I can’t. I need to just accept it as what it is and move forward.” Sam patted his thigh reassuringly as they slowed to a stop in their apartment parking lot.

“Regardless of your past, I love you for who you are Ben,” said Sam.

“I love you too Sam, so much,” said Ben as he switched the car off and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. Sam breathlessly broke her lips free from his and cast him a wicked grin.

“Would you like to stay the night at my place Ben?”

“Oh you bet,” he grinned back, knowing well the sensual, teasing gaze Sam sent his way. He eagerly followed her to her apartment and wasted no time doing away with his clothes and hers once the front door swung closed.

Bowser raised his head, then abruptly turned his back to them as he took in the all too familiar scene. Ben carried the half-naked Sam to her room, working her bra off deftly with one hand with his other wrapped around her waist. Her legs gripped his hips tightly as she grinded against him and nipped his ear.

They rushed through foreplay, barely giving it a second thought, and Sam shuddered as Ben entered her roughly. Their pleasure-filled groans mingled together as they exchanged leaders in their intimate dance, starting with Ben before Sam roughly flipped him over and took charge. It wasn’t long before both trembled in ecstasy and flopped into an exhausted embrace, thoroughly spent and satisfied.  
Sam nestled into Ben’s chest, her breath slowly returning to normal as he stroked her hair gently.

“Thank you for meeting my family today,” said Sam. “I know it wasn’t easy for you, and I really appreciate that you went through all that trouble for me.”

“Sam, I’d go through hell and back for you. Compared to that, well I guess it was pretty close, but I survived it,” said Ben jokingly. Sam jabbed at his, playing at being offended even though she knew exactly what he meant when it came to her dad. Ben kissed her forehead, then snuggled into his pillow. Exhaustion from the events of the day finally hit him, leaving him desperate for sleep. Sam apparently felt the same as she slowly drifted off to sleep on his chest.

“Goodnight Sam,” he sighed as he closed his eyes and let slumber take him.


	11. A Fairy Tale Finale

Throughout the next year, Evermake slowly grew in popularity, to the delight of Sam and Ben. Neither thought the game would take off as it did, but it confidently held a spot in the top fifty on both mobile platforms.

The rise of Evermake didn’t come without its share of trials. Throughout the creation and beta-testing phase of the game, Ben slowly stepped away from ViewTube. At first, he cut down his content to once a week, then eventually switched to once a month before finally stopping content altogether.

“Sam, its okay, this is what I want to do,” he said when she questioned him. He could sense her apprehension, feel the weight of guilt she was beginning to pile onto herself. “I never wanted to be a full time ViewTuber forever. I’m honestly so much happier working on game art with you than I’d ever been making ViewTube videos.” Sam smiled at that and quickly dashed the guilt from her conscience. However, it came creeping back when the first swell of drama began.

A handful of Marshall Law fans discovered Ben’s work on Evermake. He wasn’t sure exactly how they connected the dots, he’d chosen to change his name in any game credits to his real name after his conversation with Sam. Regardless, a stream of tweets calling him a liar and accusing him of falsely reviewing Ruminate swept social media for weeks. It left Ben feeling utterly dejected, seeing thread after thread calling him a slew of awful names and hurling lies into the wind. Even Evermake’s rating dipped slightly as false comments and reviews were left to spite him.

Sam helped him ride the wave as best she could, with lots of homemade comfort food and snuggles, but he also leaned on the expertise of Dean and Collin when he could. They were both adamant that he remain silent and let it blow over, which it eventually would. Dean even insisted he cut himself off of social media for a while, at least until everyone moved on to the next major piece of drama that would inevitably pop up. Ben reluctantly agreed and struggled at first to stick to it. Every time he browsed the internet, he itched to pop up a Twitter tab or scroll through Instagram, but every time he stopped himself before it was too late.  
True to Dean’s prediction, the drama eventually dwindled as people became bored of the topic. Evermake regained its rating naturally over time and now comfortably sat at an average of four and a half stars, which Sam and Ben were very proud of. The turbulent period was eventually lost to the sands of time, filed away as a painful memory and locked deep within Ben’s mind. It became easier to forget as Sam and Ben spent more time growing together.

Sam eventually asked Ben to move into her apartment, which he agreed to immediately. They spent more and more of their time at Sam’s place, meaning he rarely went home at all except to snag a fresh pair of clothes. It made sense in every way to combine their homes into one. What Ben didn’t anticipate was how much his love for Sam would grow as they shared their most intimate, private moments with one another.

Outside of their home life, Sam and Ben spent a growing amount of time with Sam’s parents, with the occasional visit from her brother and Ruth as well. It took a few more dinners for Samuel to become comfortable with Ben, but eventually Ben was accepted as an honorary member of the Young family.

About a year after the release of Evermake, Ben sat in the Young living room beside Samuel, staring nervously at the cup of water in his hands. Sam and Samantha had wandered off to another section of the Young residence, leaving the two men alone. Ben swallowed hard, attempting to settle the flurry of butterflies in his stomach. He knew his question would be difficult for him to say, even though he practiced what felt like a thousand times with Dean as his coach.

“Mr. Young,” Ben started, setting down his water glass and shoring up what confidence he could muster.

“Ben, you know you can call me Samuel,” Samuel interrupted. Ben looked up and smiled nervously. Samuel’s face dropped, sensing the apprehension in Ben’s expression.

“Ben, what’s wrong?” he asked, his fatherly instincts taking over.

“Nothing’s wrong Samuel, I just…” Ben trailed off, then shook his head, forcing himself to stop avoiding the topic. “Sorry, I have something really important to ask you.” Samuel’s face paled slightly, as if he could anticipate Ben’s next words.

“I’d like to ask you for Sam’s hand in marriage,” Ben squeaked out, feeling the urge to vomit and run at the same time as he forced the words from his lips.

“I...I...I…” stammered Samuel, his mouth opening and closing as he failed to form coherent sentences. His face scrunched up almost impossibly as he let out a sob, pulling Ben into a rough hug. “I thought you’d never ask, but now that you did I’m so overwhelmed with emotions I don’t know what to say.” Tears leaked from the corner of Ben’s eyes as he received more fatherly love than he ever had with his own father.

“Of course its a yes from me Ben,” sniffled Samuel as he pulled away from the hug. The two men laughed heartily, tears streaming from their faces.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Sam exclaimed as her and Samantha descended the staircase near the entryway. She took in the sight of Ben and Samuel crying together with a look of utter confusion. Samantha took one look between Ben and Samuel and accurately sized up the situation with a grin.

“I think they’re just having some manly bonding time,” said Samantha off-handedly as she led Sam into the kitchen. “Now lets start on that cookie recipe I was telling you about.”

“O-okay mom,” said Sam, unconvinced. She shot Ben a pleading glance, as if begging him to explain what happened later. Ben nodded as he tried to think of the best way to describe his conversation with Samuel without divulging the nature of their exchange.

“We were just sharing something that made us a bit emotional,” said Ben, hiding the truth with a very general summary of his conversation with Mr. Young as he drove them back to their apartment. Sam raised her eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t pry further.

\----------------------------------------

The next day, Sam awoke to a surprisingly empty bed. Ben typically enjoyed snuggling well into the late morning, especially on a Saturday.

“Ben?” she called, her voice echoing around an empty apartment. Not even a gruff from Bowser answered her. Sam jumped out of bed and yanked a set of clean clothes from her dresser. She hurriedly tugged them on as she rushed over to the living room and kitchen. No one. Neither Ben nor Bowser were anywhere to be seen. Sam calmed herself, thinking that maybe he just took Bowser on an early walk, but then spotted a pixelated, heart-shaped note resting neatly on the kitchen counter. It was propped up by an empty glass, her name scrawled across the front of the note in beautiful cursive letters. Sam gently picked up the note and turned it over to find a chibi drawing of Ben waving back at her.

“A new quest! Come to The Daily Grind and speak with Dee,” was all it said. Sam scratched her head in confusion, but curiosity got the better of her. She was out the door and hurrying down the street to her favorite coffee shop before she could think about the peculiar nature of the note.

“Dee, are you here?” asked Sam as she pushed through the entrance to The Daily Grind, which was surprisingly empty for a Saturday morning.

“Over here Sam!” said Dee as she stepped out of the employee-only area behind the counter. She had a knowing twinkle in her eye, as if she was expecting Sam. If the note was anything to go by, she probably was.

“Dee, do you have something for me?” asked Sam in confusion.

“Sure do,” said Dee as she flashed Sam a bright smile and handed over another pixelated heart note.

“Dee do you...happen to know what this is about?” said Sam nervously.

“I do, but you’ll find out soon,” said Dee as she hurried Sam towards the exit to the coffee shop. “You should read the note and then head off to your next place.”

“I...what?” said Sam in a panic as she turned over the pixelated heart. Another chibi Ben, this time jogging along as he would during his morning park runs.

“Quest updated! Find the red-haired valkyrie at Bowser’s favorite morning spot,” it read. Sam puzzled through the meaning behind the note for a moment, then realized it was leading her to the park where she and Ben typically take Bowser to for his morning walks. A mixture of joy and suspicion swirled in Sam’s chest as she waved goodbye to Dee and hurried off to the park just around the corner from their apartment.

“Angela?” said Sam incredulously as she found one of her best friends waiting on a park bench. Angela leapt up and pulled Sam in for a vigorous hug.

“Sam! So glad you’re here,” she exclaimed as she released her hold on Sam and handed over another pixelated heart note. “Once you’re done reading that, follow me. I’ll take you where you need to go next.” Sam’s eyebrows leapt to the edge of her forehead.

“Wait, you’re in on this too?” she said, now thoroughly confused. Angela responded with a grin, but nothing more. Sam shot her a questioning gaze, which she pointedly ignored as she urged Sam to read the note with a jab of her finger.

Sam flipped over the note, this time greeted by a chibi Ben devouring slices of pizza. A few arcade games littered the background.

“Almost done! You’ll find your last quest update at the guild headquarters.” Sam immediately thought of the pizzeria and met Angela’s expectant gaze.

“Come on, I’ll drive you where you need to go,” said Angela as she snagged her car keys from her purse.

“We’re going to Franky Spazbear’s Pizzaria, right?” Sam asked as she hurried behind Angela.

“Bingo,” said Angela proudly. The pair remained relatively silent as they walked to Angela’s car. Sam asked a few probing questions during their drive, hoping Angela could give her more information about this strange scavenger hunt she suddenly found herself on. Angela successfully deflected each question, to Sam’s slight annoyance.

They pulled up to the pizzeria, Sam’s patience waning with each passing second as she wished desperately to know what was really going on here. She immediately spotted Vikki standing just outside the entrance to the pizzeria. Vikki waved happily as Sam and Angela hurried to meet her. Sam shot Vikki an expectant look, who nodded and handed over another pixelated heart note.

“We’ll see you later Sam,” said Vikki as her and Angela dashed off. Sam stood shock still for a moment, unable to puzzle out exactly why her two best friends would suddenly abandon her. She stared at the note in her hand and flipped it over quickly, hoping it would lead her to the end of this frantic journey.

“Final update! Head to the forested spot of the nearby park. You’ll find a path to lead the way,” said the note. A chibi Ben in a party hat tossed confetti, which rained down in the background behind the lettering. Sam dug her smart phone out of her pocket and swiped open her maps app. True to the note, a park sat just next to the pizzeria. Sam followed her map and walked as quickly as she could to the entrance.

A small sign that looked somewhat like a game quest marker was plastered on a tree near the entrance. The tree sat at the start of what looked to be a wooded path. Sam crept towards it, then found another marker further down the way, and soon she was led deep into the heavily-forested section of the park, following the small quest markers along the way.

Suddenly, the path opened to a spacious grove, surrounded by oak trees that swayed gently in the breeze. At the center of the grove stood Ben, dressed in attire that Sam found all too familiar.

“Ruminate,” she breathed, realizing he looked exactly like his Ruminate character. Bowser sat proudly beside him, dressed in an adorable dragon costume.

“Hey Sam,” Ben said sheepishly, his stance an impossible mixture of overjoyed and uncomfortable.

“Ben, what’s going on?” said Sam as she hurried up to him. Ben wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately. Sam melted in his arms, unable to resist his touch. He pulled away abruptly and stared deeply into her eyes. Nervousness filled his expression, mirroring Sam’s fluttering stomach.

Ben took a deep breath and sank down to one knee. He reached into his pocket and extracted a small, velvet box. Sam gasped audibly, her hands flying to her mouth as she realized what her tumultuous morning was truly about. Unbidden tears leaked from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks before Ben uttered the words.

“Samara Young, will you marry me?” he asked smoothly, as if he practiced it a million times. He opened the velvet box to reveal a breathtakingly beautiful engagement ring. A small, sparkling diamond sat comfortably on an elegant yet unassuming ring band. Sam immediately sobbed, realizing he had perfectly predicted the kind of jewelry she loved to wear without asking.

“Yes Ben,” she sputtered through her tears. Ben leapt up and swept her off her feet as he kissed her passionately, tears of joy leaking from his eyes to match Sam’s.

“I think this is the best day of my life yet,” he sniffled as he nuzzled her forehead with his own and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“Same here,” Sam chuckled as she pulled him in for another tender kiss, as if the world amounted to only the two of them. Two souls on the cusp of becoming one.


End file.
